


These Were Lies #6: Anya

by voleuse



Series: These Were Lies [6]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-07
Updated: 2005-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-04 11:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>I will not speak of the undying glory of women</em>.<br/>Nine women Spike used to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Were Lies #6: Anya

**Author's Note:**

> Set after "Bargaining." Title, summary, and headings taken from _Not Marble Nor the Gilded Monuments_ by Archibald MacLeish.

_And the stubborn line to your young stride and the breath to your breathing  
And the beat to your haste  
Shall I prevail on the hearts of unborn men to remember._

 

Dawn says she's tired of sitting at home and watching TV, so Spike walks her to The Magic Box and volunteers her for inventory duty.

She shoots him a dirty look, but Anya blithely offers to pay her for the task, so Dawn disappears into the basement, albeit with a bit of stomping.

"Thanks for that," he says to Anya, who's returned to the cash register to count her money.

"Yes, well," Anya replies. "Xander says I should be nice to Dawn, since her sister died and then came back to life all grumpy."

Spike twists his mouth into a smile. "Twice, I'm told."

There's a faint crash. Spike rushes to the stairs. "Dawn?"

Her voice drifts up. "I hate you guys!"

"As long as you're okay," he shouts back.

"I hate kids," Anya announces.

Spike stares at her.

"Not Dawn, specifically," she explains, "but she can be kind of annoying."

He thinks he should defend Dawn, but then there's another crash, and Dawn lets loose a string of expletives that could make the paint peel.

Anya tromps to the stairs. "You break it, you buy it, Dawn!"

"Take it out of my salary," Dawn yells back.

He laughs.

*

 

Anya counts her money three times while Dawn's doing inventory. She makes note of the numbers in the ledger, and locks the register with the key she has hanging around her neck like a diamond.

Spike, disgruntled after she refused to let him smoke inside, makes a half-formed joke about the Great Depression.

To his surprise, Anya sits down with a smile on her face.

"That was fun," she says. "One of my top ten, if I do say so myself."

He blinks. "_You_ started the Great Depression?"

"Well, not all of it," she admits. "But this woman, Sandy Harrison? She found out her husband was having an affair with his stockbroker's niece. Or maybe his daughter. I don't remember." She waves a hand. "Anyway, I ran into her at a restaurant where she was crying into her Caesar salad, and she wished that his money would just disappear."

"Disappear." Spike scratches his head. "But why everyone's?"

Anya squints. "Something to do with the the bank? Bank accounts? Unsound speculation. It's been a while." She grins. "D'Hoffryn named me Vengeance Demon of the Year."

"Good for you." Spike jitters his unlit cigarette against the table. "And thanks. Good hunting, back in those days."

Then he remembers he shouldn't reminisce like that, and from the look on Anya's face, maybe she's realizing the same thing.

"Well."

"Well."

Dawn appears in the doorway. She's dusty, grumpy, and she slams her clipboard onto the table.

Anya picks up the clipboard, shuffles through the papers. "You missed the herb storeroom."

"Next time, I promise," she says, sarcasm rife in her voice.

Anya eyes her warily, but nods. "That's fine. I don't want to have to pay you overtime."

"Technically," Spike points out, "she's working illegally. You don't even have to pay her minimum wage."

Dawn hits him in the shoulder.

"But you should," he amends.

Anya returns to the register, unlocks it, and counts several bills into Dawn's outstretched hand.

"Can you finish tomorrow night?" she asks.

Dawn hesitates, looks at the money, then at Spike. "Can I?"

Spike looks at both of them, and shrugs. "Why not?"

*

 

The next night, when Dawn's once again ensconced in supplies, Spike sits at the table and offers Anya his flask.

After a moment of contemplation, she takes it, knocks it back.

He grins. "So."

"So." She locks the register, settles on a chair across the table.

"Tell me about the rest of your top ten."


End file.
